


Take Me to Church

by Diggory_Venn



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Religious Guilt, Steve Rogers-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:02:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26555545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diggory_Venn/pseuds/Diggory_Venn
Summary: Steve is Catholic but he finds himself attracted to men, so he has to deal with the Catholic guilt and his own conscious. Then, Tony Stark comes along.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 15
Kudos: 99





	1. "We were born sick, you heard them say it"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Main title and chapter titles comes from Hozier's amazing song "Take me to Church." This is basically a fic about Steve trying to figure who he is and what he wants (thanks Uncle Iroh!). First time I've written in this fandom, so I hope I got details and characterizations right. Please enjoy!

Steve Rogers always knew he was different. 

Well, beyond the obvious. 

He was sick six days out of the week, small, pale, and weak, since the day he was born. Other boys wrestled and played baseball in the rain, but he could only watch from the window. It didn’t stop him from getting into a fair measure of scrapes with his best friend Bucky there to back him up. His mother often despaired seeing his bruises and scrapes when he showed up to supper, but she always patched him up with a kind smile. The kindest smile. Despite his trouble breathing, he still managed to get into scraps with the Brooklyn bullies who didn’t take kindly to anyone weaker than them. True, that included him, but he didn’t care. 

But he also knew that he was sick in a different way. 

Around nine or ten, the other boys started to single out the girls at school. Each boy had a favorite gal based on her hair, or smile, or jokes. Even Bucky shared with him one afternoon out by the oak tree in the schoolyard that he found the girl with long braided hair sitting in the front corner of their class very “cute.” 

Steve didn’t quite understand what they meant, but he was behind them all physically anyway. He just didn’t understand yet. He figured he would someday. 

He got along with the girls just fine. He liked them just fine. He just didn’t understand everyone else’s obsession. 

However, the older he got the more confusing it became. The divide between the genders only grew steeper as his peers moved into high school. Boys still hung out with boys and girls still hung out with girls, but the interactions changed. Suddenly, if Steve stopped to talk to a girl or help her with her books, than they must fancy each other. A smile became an invitation rather than a greeting. 

And the boys’ obsession just seemed to grow. 

All of them were so eager to do…things with girls. Things that made Steve have to leave the room. The other boys, especially Bucky, teased him for his pure and innocent heart, taking his hurried exit for bashfulness. Steve didn’t have the heart to tell them that it made him uncomfortable because he didn’t understand. Why would they want to treat any girl, especially the girls they fancied, like that? Why would they want to do those things with them? It all seemed so…strange and unappealing, at least to Steve. He seemed to be the only one that felt this way though, so he just swiftly made his exit whenever the topic turned to girlfriends. 

His pals asked him so often who he had an eye on that he finally just picked a girl. She was nice, liked to joke around, and had a warm smile. She was a safe choice; he was too skinny, pale, and unattractive for any girl to look at him twice anyway. After he chose her, the ribbing continued, but at least he could participate in the locker room discussions. 

The thing was…he did want to kiss and touch someone, but…he couldn’t even entertain the thought. 

He still remembered going to mass with his mother and hearing Father Creagh giving a passionate sermon from his stand. The man was short and bald, but in Steve’s young mind, he towered over everyone in his embroidered robe. The intimidation only increased at the words he shouted and his thunderous expression. 

Steve didn’t really remember why the priest started on the topic at all, only that some picture show had come out that featured an “unsavory” relationship between two men and something about a play being released along those same lines. He didn’t understand why it was such a big deal; he just wanted to get home and try out a rock he’d found to see if he could draw with it, but his mom was intensely focused on the Father’s words. He tried to focus too. He always remembered the words spoken. 

“Our recent culture revolution rejects all of God’s teachings. But this recent acceptance of that which is unnatural, that which is in direct opposition of God’s design for humanity, truly reveals the sorry state we have fallen to.

These people are diseased!” 

This statement was shouted so loud that Steve looked up in surprise from examining his fingers. 

“They deserve our pity and our assistance but not our acceptance. They must be institutionalized and repaired. Never forget what the Lord has declared in Leviticus chapter 20 verse thirteen: ‘You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination.’ Do not forget Sodom and Gomorrah. We must reject those who reject the word of God as diseased and defiled.” 

The priest’s voice had quieted down by this point, so Steve returned to picking at his nails. The words meant little to him at the time beyond surprise at the vehemence in the usually pleasant priest. Now they haunted him daily. 

He was already called a pansy and a fruitcake enough because of his size; he couldn’t let anyone know why he was really so sensitive to those terms. 

He really was sick; he heard them say it. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Maybe that was why he tried so hard to get into the army, to make up for what he was. Part of the reason he volunteered for Erskine’s project was the hope that it would not only make his body stronger but his mind as well. If the serum could fix asthma, maybe it could fix his ailment as well. 

It didn’t work.  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Everybody knew what was happening even if nobody addressed it. 

Well, Steve didn’t know about it. If he hadn’t been actively suppressing that part of himself, maybe he would have picked up on it sooner. For better or worse, he only realized what was happening after someone propositioned him. 

It just happened one day in the barracks after an especially tiring USO show in the Norwegian countryside. A shy looking cadet had approached him, talking about how much he admired him. A pretty blush was on his face as he quietly asked what Steve was doing that night. 

Then Steve got it.

And Steve couldn’t do it. 

It was a crime, not just against God but against the country he had sworn to serve. 

He had spent so long denying that he felt any desire of the kind that to see it so openly discussed shocked him beyond belief. He turned the cadet down with what he hoped was a kind smile; he was too surprised to really react well, didn’t even watch as the boy walked away embarrassed. But he certainly didn’t feel any ill will towards the boy; combat did a lot of things to a lot of people. He didn’t think the boy was sinful or that the act itself was corrupt. 

But to Steve it was. He still believed in God, and he wanted to honor what his mother had taught him. It was a foundation of who he was; he couldn’t give that up for a meaningless roll in the hay. He knew his mother would always love him no matter what, but he wasn’t sure he could love himself.  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Steve never told anyone what he was feeling. Beyond the fear of legal and moral ramifications was the much greater fear of rejection and disgust. 

But he could never hide anything from his best friend Bucky.  
Of course, Bucky chose to talk to him right before a mission. They were preparing to capture Zola’s train when Bucky found him checking the team’s ammo supply in the back of a half-truck. 

“Hey Cap. You almost finished up here?” 

“I’m about done now.“

“Yon gonna see Peg soon?” Bucky asked casually as he leaned on the side of the truck examining his gun disinterestedly. 

“Yeah, hope to,” Steve said with a blush. 

“Hmmm…” Bucky hummed while contemplating his face. Unable to take Bucky’s scrutiny, Steve climbed out of the truck and started to walk away. 

“Even though you carry her photograph, I get the feelin’ you’re not too keen on her.” 

Bucky’s voice stopped him. How could he know? Sure he liked Peg; she was smart, clever, funny, and beautiful. And, most importantly, even after he gained his good looks and muscles, she didn’t treat him any differently than she had before. She was a safe bet. They hadn’t even kissed yet, let alone had a dance. He couldn’t help but turn to look at Bucky’s smirk. 

“Steve, I’ve known you forever,” Bucky continued. “You’re my brother, and I will always love you. I know you better than anyone. You think I didn’t notice how you didn’t care for the dames? How even the longest walking sticks didn’t catch your eyes? Shit, I think I caught on before you did.” 

“It’s-I don’t-“ Steve mumbled out, unable to stop his blush or lowering his eyes to the ground. 

“I also know that you’ve got eyes for me pal. I know you like me in my civvies.”

Now Steve really couldn’t look at him. There was humor and warmth in Buck’s last remark, but that didn’t change how Steve felt. This was worse than he ever imagined. Not only did Bucky know about his defect, but he also knew about his perverted desires. He couldn’t even protect his best friend from his corruption. He was breathing so hard it felt like his asthma had come back, and he almost didn’t hear what Bucky said next. 

“It’s okay if you feel that way about me.” 

Steve looked up in shock at Bucky’s casual words. Bucky just shrugged, keeping eye contact with him. 

“I can’t promise I’ll ever return your feelings, but it’s okay if you feel like that.”

Steve felt his mouth go dry, and he looked down from Bucky’s steadfast gaze, unable to accept or confirm the words he spoke. 

When he was finally able to speak, he said “It might be okay for some people, but it’ll never be okay for me.” 

“Stevie-“ Bucky started.

“No. We’re not talking about this Buck.” He couldn’t face his friend, so he turned his back to him and tried to walk away. 

“Yes we are. Anybody who knows you doesn’t give a damn who you’re with. Hell, I’ve seen more than enough of Frenchies’ escapades. It’s okay, Stevie.” 

“It’s not okay! I’m Captain America!” Steve screamed, turning around to look at him, tears streaming down his face. “I represent more than just myself! I can’t let myself feel this!” 

“Stevie,” Bucky said in a slightly broken tone as he put his arm on Steve’s shoulder and pulled him into a hug. “You are so much more than Captain America. You have to know that…right?” 

Steve found that he couldn’t reply with his throat all choked up. Before he could say anything, Dum Dum came to get them for the raid. 

That was one of the last things Bucky ever said to him. 

So when he decided to go down with the plane, it wasn’t as hard of a decision as it should have been. 

At least now he wouldn’t have to worry about all this anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as I wrote this, I realized just how much of my own struggles and experiences I put into this fic. I'm Christian but also bisexual, so I wanted to write something from that perspective. The conversation that Steve has with Bucky was inspired by a conversation I had with my friend where she told me it was okay to love her. That helped me so much, so I thought it could help Steve too. Next chapter should be happier! Hope you enjoyed!


	2. "There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update, but this chapter was a beast! Hope you enjoy!

Of course, as soon as he got out of the ice, it started up all over again. Only worse.

Steve didn’t know if this new world was better than being stuck in the ice in an eternal slumber. The whole thing felt like a dream anyway. He awoke to a false reality, almost parallel to his own with a similar setting, familiar radio programs. But it didn’t take him long to figure out that it was all fake. Immediately after, he was thrown all too quickly into a futuristic world like something out of a movie but not nearly as fun. No flying zeppelins that were sleek and smooth, flying all over the sky. No metal people or automatons to do your work for you. 

No, instead the future he gets sent to is one where the world is still in danger from the same monsters he fought over 70 years ago, eccentric gods, green giants (not the one that introduced vegetables), secret agents sneaking around corners like bad Dick Tracy impersonators, and hostile aliens hell bent on invading earth. It seemed more a fevered dream than reality. Half the time he suspected he was still frozen in the ice. 

But in the midst of all this confusion, there was one thing those egghead science fiction theorists had gotten correct. There were metal people and automatons, well, one metal person: Iron Man. 

From the first, Tony just rubbed him the wrong way (in more ways than one). 

Loki’s scepter didn’t help, but, gosh, did Tony remind him of all those rich and powerful bullies he took on everyday during the war. Men who thought the law didn’t apply to them, that they could do whatever they wanted no matter who they crushed along the way. Didn’t help that Tony looked like Howard; Steve liked Howard, but he always felt like the man was watching him, dissecting him. It felt like he was trying to see how much Steve could be worth to him. It made him feel like a bug on display. 

He got that same examining feeling from Tony, but it was compounded by his hopeless attraction to the man. The electricity that went between them when they first met on the helipad only strengthened Steve’s desire to lash out at him. 

How could he explain to Tony that part of the reason he was so frustrated and angry with him was that Tony brought his repressed feelings and sinful desires to the surface?

Steve was perfectly fine with denial. Heck, he spent most of his days pretending that he wasn’t in the future. Before Tony, Steve could conceal every part of his personality that didn’t conform to the Captain America ideal. It wasn’t always easy, but his slip-ups were far and in between. After Tony, he was lucky if he could pull himself together for a press conference. Captain America, the paragon of American virtue, a symbol of hope and freedom, could barely make it through breakfast without having a shouting match with Tony over the toaster! He felt equal parts of frustration and attraction anytime he was around the other man, and often he had no other outlet than harsh criticism and shouting. His only other option was to fiercely kiss the man until they both couldn’t breath enough to shout. 

Which wasn’t an option. Not possible. Not that Steve could stop himself from thinking about it. It was just easier to scream. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Tony, you can’t just do whatever the hell you want!”

“Um, yes I can. Genius, billionaire, philanthropist, playboy here, remember? If I want to put a sparkly, star-spangled thong on my suit when I fly it out to battle then I damn well will, and I’d like to see you stop me! Unless, you want to wear them yourself because I’m not saying no to that.” 

“Dammit, Tony,” Steve said, too angry to be embarrassed. He was so mad he didn’t even care that he was swearing, and he definitely did not want the image of star-spangled thongs in anyway associated with his thoughts of Tony. “This isn’t about you or some power-play. We’re a team, and I, the rest of the team, need to know that we can depend on you, and we can’t do that if you don’t follow orders!” 

“Your orders you mean?” Tony sneered back stepping closer. “Who died and made you team captain, huh? Oh, that’s right, the Greatest Generation did! Cap, I saw a detonator that only I can disable, I disable the damn thing (in record time I might add), and all you get from that is’ you didn’t follow orders, Tony,’ and ‘oh you’re such a show-off Tony.’ I’m not going to let bombs go off just to boost your damn ego! Got it, spangled?”

Oh, Steve could kill him. That quip about his fellow soldiers…oh, he could kill him! He could kill him in the now deserted Avenger’s common room, throw his body in one of those melting machines he’s got in his workshop, and no one would even be the wiser! Gosh, but he wanted to strangle him, Tony infuriated him so! He’d throw him down and-oh no, better not follow that train of thought. 

Steve turned his attention back to Tony, who, despite all his posturing, looked a little ridiculous. He was still all sweaty from being in the suit, his hair was sticking up every which way, and, for all his efforts to be intimidating, the shorter man was essentially sticking his nose in Steve’s mouth. Adding that to his now red face and seriously pissed off expression, he looked so darn darling that Steve couldn’t help but burst out laughing. 

He doubled over in shoulder-shaking laughs, and when he finally sat up to look at Tony, his shocked expression started Steve off again. Tears started to come to his eyes as he tried to recover himself. 

“I’m sorry, Tony,” he finally managed to get out. “I, I don’t mean to laugh at you, but, I mean, how many times have we had this fight? This same, old, well worn fight? I mean, what’s the point in going over the same ground? It’s-it’s absolutely pointless-” he managed to finish before breaking down into laughter again.

“Well, I guess I know where I stand now,” Tony said, sounding bewildered. “Actually, I have no idea. Are you having a freak out? God, did I cause Captain America to have a mental breakdown?! Fury’s gonna kill me! I am a dead man slash iron suit walking.” 

“I’m not having a mental breakdown,” he managed to breathe out. “I just, it’s all pointless, isn’t it?” He moved to the wall to steady himself, but ended up sinking to the floor. The ratio of laughter to tears was becoming uneven; Steve could feel the tears streaming down his face with only the occasional chuckle to lighten them. Tony was rapidly paling, and he kneeled down to be beside Steve. 

“Cap, what’s going on? ‘It’s all pointless’? What the hell does that mean? You’re not-“ Tony took a moment to put his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You’re not suicidal are you?” 

“No,” Steve replied as the tears started to let up. “At least, I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” Tony said uneasily. “Because you know you can always come to me with that shit. I’m basically the king of destructive tendencies, and I’m pretty sure Pepper, well before she dumped me, would one thousand percent agree. So, if you ever, you know, need to talk or punch something, or disintegrate something, I’m your man. Yeah?” 

“Thank you, Tony. Really.”

“No problem, ah, Steve. But I have to ask. If it’s not that, then what’s up? ”

“I just-“ Steve began, looking at his hands instead of Tony’s concerned face. “I feel like I’m in this endless cycle of failure. We get a mission; I make a call on that mission. It’s the wrong call, and somebody gets hurt. I go to SHIELD and explain what happened and why I made such bad decisions. I come back to the tower and we fight about how I’m a bad leader. Rinse and repeat. Over and over again, and nothing seems to change no matter what I do. I don’t know how to make it stop. I-I don’t know how to be better at this. 

And you know what,” Steve said, his eyes meeting Tony’s,” You’re right. I should trust you to make your own calls. I guess I’m just used to working with soldiers. With the Commandos, I always knew where I stood. I knew what my responsibilities were, what to expect from my team, and what they expected from me. But this? We’re not soldiers; some of us aren’t even human. I have no idea how to lead geniuses and assassins and gods.” 

There was a pause after Steve stopped talking, which was incredible in and of itself. Steve talked so much that it made even Tony Stark be quiet. ‘Will wonders never cease?’

Finally, Tony broke the silence. 

“Friend, that’s more words than you’ve spoke in the past two weeks,” Tony said with a smirk and a slightly country twang to his voice. 

“Is that a reference to something? Because you know I don’t get it.”

“It’s from-you know what never mind,” Tony replied with a slight blush for some reason. “Look, I have no idea what you’re going through. None. And I can see how this seems like an impossible task. But why don’t you just talk to the team? We are a team, right? When one of us hurts, we all hurt. Talk to the others and we’ll work out a plan. Make us do drills, sleepovers, truth-or-dare, or whatever, but I’m sure the team will be up for it. And I-I need to trust you too. I’ll try to be less of an ass when I deviate from script, all right? You don’t have to do this alone. Hell, you absolutely shouldn’t do this alone, that way lays madness my friend.” 

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at that and feel slightly warmed by Tony calling him friend. 

“Thank you, Tony. Truly. You’re a pretty swell guy,” Steve said smiling at him. 

Tony returned with a warm smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, gramps.”  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After that, things changed between them. 

Oh, they still fought, and, occasionally, Steve had to restrain himself from killing Tony. But along with this came teasing, a causal kind, that could only exist between friends. ‘Shellhead’ became Steve’s well-known moniker for Iron Man while Tony favored ‘Winghead’ for Captain America. Their fights became less explosive and more cathartic. This easy camaraderie slowly spread to the rest of the team; not only did their battle strategies improve, but their personal interactions were now far less tense. 

Late nights when they all had bouts of insomnia were no longer spent with everyone in their individual rooms; instead, they all gradually gathered in the common floor’s kitchen to snack and tease and occasionally fall asleep on the couch. Natasha was always there first. Slowly, she let the others see different sides of herself, and it was no longer uncommon for the team to walk in on her painting her nails or eating pop tarts curled up on the couch. Tony was usually the next to show up (seeing as he hadn’t gone to sleep in the first place) to get more coffee. Steve turned up next to see Tony and Natasha chatting amicably about the problems associated with wearing leather pants don’t breathe. He always liked to see those two getting along despite their awkward beginnings. Seeing Tony a little less put together and a little less guarded always made his post-nightmare nights better. Thor, Clint, and Bruce were more sporadic, but when everyone was gathered together, those times were Steve’s favorite. Those times were what he would always remember. Tony and Clint vaulting back and forth across the counter trying to shoot each other with mini marshmallows while Natasha secretly hit them both from her perch on top of the couch cushions. He and Thor would sit next to each other on the stools and watch the battle with amusement and discuss strategies. Bruce usually had his head down on the counter in complete defeat and exhaustion, but Steve would see him occasionally peek at the goings-on and smile. Even if it was three in the morning, this was when Steve felt the most at home, the most normal. None of hos life had been normal, but he imagined this was what normal people felt like staying up late with their friends. It was easy to forget that these people were all superheroes. 

Steve also didn’t mind when he walked in to find just Tony watching movies on the television. He didn’t know if Tony did it on purpose, but every time he joined Tony on the couch he was watching black and white films. Maybe that was all that played at night or something (Steve still didn’t understand cable), but it was comforting to see something familiar after waking up from nightmares to find himself again in a frightening new reality. Tony’s presence assured him that he hadn’t somehow slept another seventy years, but the films reminded him that his past also existed, simultaneously, in his memory. 

On nights when it was just the two of them, things were more personal. Sometimes they would talk about nothing and just sit in companionable silence. This usually happened when the Marx Brothers films were on; you couldn’t look away for a second or you’d miss half the dialogue! The noir films were the funniest. Tony would take a ridiculous line and use it during sparring or missions just to get a laugh out of him. Steve will never forget the time during a post-battle report at SHIELD that Tony said, right to Fury’s face, that the offender had probably “thrown himself against a hard world until it sharpened him into a granite stiletto.” It didn’t even make any sense in the context, and it wasn’t even that funny. But Steve couldn’t help the loud laugh that burst forth from him. 

The romance films made him feel uncomfortable sitting that close to Tony while glamorous stars exchanged smoldering looks on the screen. Steve wondered if he ever looked at Tony like that. He tended to chatter a lot more to distract himself from his own thoughts. They talked about all kinds of things: Tony’s strained relationship with his late father, Steve’s own memories of Howard Stark, and how the two didn’t align. How the world had changed since Steve woke up from the ice, and how it would continue to change into the future. How weird it was that Thor could never figure out who was stealing his pop tarts even though Natasha was constantly eating pop tarts. (Tony always figured that even if Thor acknowledged it, he couldn’t stop Natasha from eating them). They talked about how to improve team dynamics, how to be more prepared for emergencies, and how to get the giant stick out of Fury’s ass (Tony’s words, not his). Sometimes they fell asleep talking, and Steve would wake up to the wonderful, warm feeling of Tony resting on his shoulder. 

Steve spent time with the team outside of these late night meet-ups, but he really loved going down to Tony’s workshop to sketch and think and nap while Tony worked. He loved being in there so much, he even brought earplugs to wear when Tony blasted his (what apparently passed for) music. It was rare to have those peaceful afternoons. When they did, Steve wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else but Tony. After so many years being sick, then at war, then alone in the ice, Steve didn’t want to spend anymore time alone than he had to. 

Steve knew he shouldn’t let himself get this close to Tony. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his affection to the acceptable and recognizable friend-level. But he also knew that he couldn’t stay away for his own sanity. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was on one of those lazy afternoons where Steve got Tony all to himself that it happened. 

They were sitting together on the roof of Stark Tower, Tony in his black Led Zeppelin t-shirt and ripped jeans and Steve in his white tee and significantly less ripped jeans, though they were just as worn. Steve sat sketching while he listened to Tony ramble about circuitries and switches, not following a word, but loving the sound of his voice anyway. He tried not to look over at Tony too often, but he was trying to catch his profile, so it was a losing battle. He thought he was being sneaky enough with his glances, but after one too many times apparently, he looked over to find Tony looking right back at him.

He met Tony’s eyes, and couldn’t bring himself to look away. ‘I’m just looking to capture his expression,’ Steve thought to himself. ‘It’s for the sketch, not because I like to look at him.’ Steve was so focused on justifying himself that he didn’t realize Tony was leaning towards him until it was too late. 

Tony was kissing him.

Tony’s lips were on his. 

Um…what?

And for a moment, Steve could feel nothing else. Not his feet and rear-end on the ground, not his hands holding the sketchbook, not even the air on his skin. Everything was singled down to the small patch of skin on his lips that was being touched by Tony’s own. That small physical connection between them was the whole world to him, and he couldn’t have parted from it if he tried. 

Then his brain kicked back online, and, in his shock, he ended up suddenly shoving Tony away by the shoulders. Steve scrambled to his feet a good distance away from Tony. He couldn’t help lifting a hand to his lips as if he could somehow feel the traces of Tony left there. When he finally looked up, he saw the shocked expression on Tony’s pale face. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Tony stuttered out. “I just, I guess I thought…of course I was reading that wrong, you’re you, and obviously you don’t feel that way about anyone, least of all me. I’ll just go. Over there. Far away, to bury my head in the sand.” Crouching with his hands on his knees, Tony put his head in between his legs to take a deep breathe before swinging upright to look at Steve. “Whew, forget that ever happened alright?” Tony finished with a blush high on his cheeks as he started to walk with awkward limbs toward the roof door, still wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans.

“Tony,” Steve called out, unable to let him go like that. Then Tony looked at him, and Steve could see the tiny bit of hope in his eyes. No doubt it was reflected in his own. It was time to tell the truth. 

“Tony,” Steve began again, “I do feel ‘that way’ about you. I have for a long time.” 

The hope in Tony’s eyes seemed to explode before something tamped it down again. “Then why did you pull away?” 

“Because I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Be with you, like that.”

“Why ever not, darling?”

“I just can’t.”

“I’m going to need a little more then that, Steve, if you want me to get this,” Tony said, arching his eyebrow at Steve. “Forgive me, I’m just a billionaire, member of the Avengers, and creator of the world’s first arc reactor that changed science forever, but I’m not picking up what you’re putting down. Care to elaborate, babe?” 

“I’m Catholic, you know?” Steve said looking down at the ground with his hands firmly clenched in his pockets, outwardly ignoring the term of endearment while inwardly his hear celebrated. “I just, that sort of thing isn’t allowed, so I-I can’t Tony. I’m just, I’m so sorry, Tony.” 

“Wait hold up,” Tony said with a raised hand. “So, you do like me?”

“I-,“ Steve started but he couldn’t seem to help himself from blushing. “Of course I do. Who could resist you? You’re, well, you’re Tony.” 

Tony rolled his eyes at that. “Thanks for that elucidating point there, Steve. That makes everything so much clearer. Can you just feel the sarcasm? So, you’re attracted to me, you like me, and, god, if that doesn’t make me sound like a love-struck teenager, but you do like me, but you can’t be with me because you’re Catholic. Does that about sum it up?” 

“Yes,” Steve said, resignedly, with his eyes still on the ground. It wasn’t a pretty summary, but it would suffice. 

“So, you hate gay people?” Tony said bluntly. 

That statement got Steve to look at him in the eyes as his head shot up in shock. “What? No!”

“Oh I see,” Tony continued with his arms crossed and a skeptical look in his eyes. “So, you don’t hate gay people, but you think they’re all going to hell because of who they love? That better? You think I’m going to hell? That’s probably, scratch that, definitely true, but not because of who I date. Mostly. Well, that won’t be the majority of it anyway.” 

“Tony, I don’t think you’re going to hell. I-I don’t know how to explain, but it’s not okay for me. Other people can find ways to work it out, but I haven’t.” 

“God, you are so egotistical!” Tony shouted as he started to pace back and forth in front of Steve, who watched bewildered. “Of course, everyone else is fine loving who they love, but not you! You’re too goddamn important, right?! You can’t have it both ways, Steve. I guess if it isn’t fine in God’s eyes for you then it isn’t fine for everyone else either, right? You think you’re a disgusting sinner? That something’s wrong with them? Then that applies to me too, smartass! 

“No!” Steve shouted in horror. “Tony, you’re not disgusting or wrong! You, you’re amazing and smart and beau-” Steve stopped and cleared his throat. It’s just, you’re not Catholic.”

Tony laughed coldly as he finally stopped pacing and turned to stand in Steve’s face. “God’s laws apply to all, that includes me, unless you’ve got some sort of bible that only applies to you! Steve, please just-” he stopped to take a deep breath and backed up from Steve, bringing his hand up to rub his nose tiredly. “Why is it such a big deal for you?” Tony continued sounding totally exasperated. “Why is it okay for everyone else in the world but not for you? You that special, huh? ‘Everything special about you came out of a bottle,’ remember?” 

Steve found that he couldn’t reply. His tongue felt swollen in his too dry mouth as he watched Tony, sweet, frustrating Tony, trying to figure out what to do with him. After about a minute of Tony breathing heavily and Steve hardly breathing at all, Tony continued. 

“Look, Steve, I like you. I think we could be good together, good for each other. But you need to get yourself figured out. I’m not going to be anyone’s gay experiment. Not yours. Not even Captain America.” 

At this, he turned and walked back into his tower, leaving Steve outside with only the wind and the sky for company. Steve stood frozen looking at the door long after Tony left. 

Eventually, he looked up to stare at the sky and couldn’t help but wonder (not for the first time) if anyone but the Chitauri were looking back. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It looked exactly the same as when he was a child. Apparently, the Catholic Church never changed with the times, in either policy or furnishings. It was beautiful though in an austere way. Steve could appreciate the flying buttresses and the soft light that filtered through the stained glass. But he didn’t come here for the architecture, and his nerves kept him from observing his surroundings too closely. 

Steve purposefully wore a sweatshirt with a hood to hopefully attract less attention and sat quietly in one of the front benches until it was his turn at the confessional.

“Good evening, Father,” Steve said as he knelt on the stiff velvet cushioning.

“Good evening, my son,” came the reply. The voice sounded like an older man, which was reassuring to Steve. The last thing he wanted was a younger priest who might recognize him from the news or something. 

Steve began to make the sign of the cross as he recited, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.”

“May the Lord grant you grace,” the priest replied automatically. 

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. This is my-well I can’t remember what number confession this is, Father. I haven’t confessed since I returned from…from the war.” 

“Ah, a soldier, hmm? I served as a chaplain in Afghanistan.”

“You did?” Steve said, surprised. He tried to look through the panel separating him from the priest, but, of course, he could see nothing. 

“Oh yes,” the priest replied with what sounded like a smile in his voice. “I am well acquainted with the ways of war. And what happens to those thrown into it.”

“Well, Father,” Steve said a little uneasily, unsure if the priest was about to ask him more details about his own service, “I’m sure the men you served with were eternally grateful for all the comfort you gave them. I don’t know if any of us ever leave the war…but I’m not really here for that…” Steve shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to bring up what was on his mind. 

“Go on,” the priest said encouragingly. 

“I-“ Steve swallowed nervously before continuing (for heaven’s sake, he’d faced down Nazis and war-mongering aliens, he could handle talking to a priest!), “ever since I was young, I, well, I’ve been, I suppose you could say that I’ve been, well, attractedtomen.” He said this last bit so quickly and quietly that he wasn’t sure the priest heard him at all. Apparently, despite all his time around Tony, he still couldn’t talk about sex without blushing. Tony would be so disappointed in him. If they were still on speaking terms. 

“Go on,” the priest prompted. His voice sounded encouraging enough, so Steve continued.

“I’ve just,” he took a deep, steadying breath, “I’ve always felt like something about me was wrong or different. Since I was young, I’ve only had, well, physical feelings of attraction t-towards men.”

The priest didn’t say anything, so Steve took another deep breath. 

“It only increased when I was in the army as I’m sure you can understand. I never acted on my feelings because it was against what I’d been taught all my life. I’m not perfect, never will be,” Steve said, straightening his back, “but I’ve always tried to do what’s right. Now, I’ve met someone, and Father-“ he broke off as tears started to fall from his eyes and his shoulders hunched over, no longer straight. “I love him,” he managed to choke out. “I love him, and I don’t know what to do. What is right, Father,” he appealed, raising his head towards the partition. “What should I do? I’m so lost in more ways than one, and I could use some guidance. Please, Father. I’m so lost.” 

At this, Steve could no longer continue to speak, and his head bowed low with body-racking sobs.

“Oh, my dear boy,” the priest said, and Steve heard him exit the booth and felt his arm come around him. Steve knew this should surprise him, but he was too overcome with shame and fear. “What sin have you committed? Loving one of God’s creatures?”

Steve looked at the priest in surprise. “It goes against everything I’ve ever been taught, everything I’ve ever known! How can I accept this part of myself without tearing my soul apart in confusion and conflict?” Steve couldn’t help his voice raising as he questioned the priest. “How can I live with myself if I don’t know who I am?” he pleaded more quietly, almost desperately. 

The priest said nothing for a few minutes; he simply allowed Steve to calm down after crying on his shoulder. Finally, he spoke. 

“I cannot tell you what you wish to know.” Steve felt his hope fall and almost began to cry when the priest spoke again. “I cannot tell you what you wish to know,” he repeated, “because only you have the answer. I am only a man, but I think that God would not want you to lie about who you are. I cannot tell you what God’s will is for you, that is something we all must discover for ourselves. But, if it will ease your mind, I will tell you that you have already done your penance. God the Father of mercies…I absolve you from your sins. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

“Amen,” Steve replied as the Father finished making the sign of the cross above him. He met the Father’s eyes and saw that they were kindly looking at him. He was correct; the priest was an older man, and he helped him to stand as Steve prepared to leave. 

“Go in peace, my son.” 

“Thank you Father,” Steve said, moving from the confessional towards the door. “I think I know what to do now.” 

He walked out of the chapel with his shoulders back, chin higher than when he had walked in. The priest watched him go, and the shadow that had seemed to follow Steve into the church didn’t follow him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not Catholic, but I hope the confessional scene worked out okay. The movie references are "Brokeback Mountain" and a movie I saw on late night T.V. channel during the noir hour, but for the life of me, I can't remember what it was. I'm probably misquoting it anyway.


	3. "The only Heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why it took me so long to post this chapter. Probably because I kept thinking that it's a short chapter so it shouldn't take that long to write. I put it off, but here it is! Also, totally but a "She Loves Me" quote in here. Thank you so much for reading!

It’d been a week since their kiss, and Steve still hadn’t talked to Tony about it yet. He knew the inventor must have been losing his mind with anxiety. Tony always fretted too much. 

During missions nothing changed; they still complemented each other wonderfully in the field with no unnecessary chatter (well, no more unnecessary chatter than usual from Tony). It was hard for things to be awkward when talking to an alter ego versus a person. Steve didn’t kiss Iron Man; he kissed Tony. And Tony was commenting on Captain America’s ass not Steve’s (that’s how he tried to reason his almost constant blush away).

Outside of battle, it was a completely different story. 

Anytime Steve walked in on Tony or vice-versa, there was a great deal of mumbling, aborted movements, and clearing of throats. 

Even if all the Avengers were present just lying around the living area with their own projects and work scattered about, there was an undertone of discord and a sense of tension in the air. Either Steve or Tony always ended up awkwardly excusing themselves and stumbling from the room. The rest of the team knew something was up, but despite Thor’s oblivious joviality, Clint’s snarky comments and crude hand gestures, Bruce’s quiet but knowing looks, and Natasha’s threatening glances while Wii bowling, Steve still hadn’t had a heart to heart with Tony. 

If he’d wanted to sort out a private meeting back in what Clint lovingly referred to the “oldie-fogies’” days, he would have left a note with the time and place next to the bookmark in whatever book rested on their bedside table. He couldn’t keep track of the times he’d left a note for Bucky in whatever penny dreadful, gumshoe mag he had lying around. But Tony was all future and paperless; Steve didn’t think he even owned a book! 

In the end, Steve ended up asking Mr. JARVIS to create a digital note? A computer message? He still didn’t get it, but Mr. JARVIS assured him that when Tony opened his projection screen (?), he would get the message to meet Steve on the roof at 6:00 p.m. Call Steve a sap, but he wanted to have this conversation in the same place as their first kiss with the sun setting around them. 

Of course, Steve was on the roof three hours early for their appointment; he didn’t want to miss Tony, and his pervasive anxiety kept him from doing anything else including eating. The thought of food made him too nauseous. 

He took deep breaths to try to relax his tense body, but he tightened right back up when he heard the roof door open. He stood and heard Tony’s light footfalls step towards him. 

And then, as soon as he turned to look at Tony, his body was instantly at ease. Tony did that to him. If Tony was here, everything was going to be all right. 

“Hey, Cap,” Tony said with a weak smile and a hint of swagger as he pocketed his hands into torn jeans. 

“Hello, Tony,” Steve replied with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He thought Tony was so brave to come when he had no idea what Steve would say. But one way or another, things couldn’t go on like this. 

“Tony-“

“Before you say anything, Steve, I have to let you know,” Tony interrupted, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before continuing. “No matter what you’ve decided, I need to have you in my life, in whatever capacity you’ll have me. You’re too important to me, and if I have to have a repeat of this week, I’ll let Natasha sedate me like she’s been threatening.” 

Steve chuckled at that. “You’re important to me too, Tony.” 

Tony gave a half smile at that and stepped closer to Steve. 

“In fact, you’re probably one of the most important things in my life right now. You and the Avengers.” 

Tony’s face quickly turned slightly disappointed before he seemed to rally himself. “Oh like, as a friend and teammate sort of thing, right?” Tony gave a wry smile as he suddenly and jerkily moved backwards towards the exit. “That’s cool, that’s fine, I’m just gonna go stick my head in the Tower’s reactor, so if you’ll excuse me-“

“Tony!” Steve said with a hint of exasperation, and effectively stopping Tony’s retreat. “I thought you said you’d take our relationship in whatever capacity you’d have me, right?” 

“Well, yes, but what can I say? I’m a selfish, self-centered man, and I always want more.” 

He shot Steve with a smoldering look that stopped Steve’s heart and stole his breath. “Well, maybe you’re not wrong to want more,” he replied, trying to shoot an equally paralyzing look, but thought he might have failed based on the amused look Tony now had directed at him. 

“Tony, it’s just…uh, I don’t know how to...do you want to sit over here? With me?”

“Sure thing, Steve,” Tony said easily, moving to sit with Steve on the ground near the edge of the roof. The New York skyline looked amazing from up here, and just as Steve predicted, the waning light covered them in warm tones of pink and orange. It covered Tony’s hair in highlights of gold, and Steve found himself gazing at him rather than the sunset. Eventually, Tony turned to meet his gaze, and they held it for a moment until Steve finally found the courage to break it. 

“I went to see a priest. And I’m not sure how to explain how all my feelings are tied to one another, but I’ve got to try.”

Tony smiled at him encouragingly. He continued. 

“It’s like how it was before the serum. I always thought something was wrong with me that I had to be fixed. I was too skinny, too weak, too defective. But maybe if I’d just learned to accept that that was who I am, if I’d learned to be happy as myself, I would’ve been happy. I always thought of myself as broken, as incomplete. But maybe I just am who I am. And who that is isn’t wrong or broken.

I don’t know. I’m not saying I regret going through the Project, but I’ve always thought of myself as ‘wrong’ even after the serum-and I think it’s time to change that.” 

“I think that priest was right,” he continued. “I think God would want me to be honest about who I am. And I think I finally understand who I am.”

“It’s kind of ridiculous anyway. I’m worrying about liking men when I may not even be human anymore. I might be damned already!” He didn’t think it was all that funny, but his own despair bubbled out of him as hysterical laughing that he couldn’t seem to stop. 

“Steve,” Tony said looking concerned. 

Steve just couldn’t stop laughing. Tears started to come into his eyes, hand covering them as his shoulders continued to shake. 

“Steve,” Tony said again pleadingly. He heard Tony move closer to him and felt a warm hand on his shoulder. After a moment, Tony’s hand came to his chin and lifted his head until his watering blue eyes met brown. The fond look in Tony’s eyes made him stop laughing though he occasionally hiccupped. 

“Steve,” Tony repeated for a third time. “Of course you’re human. You think someone with as many faults and problems as you isn’t human? Impossible!” 

Steve gave a watery laugh at this, and smiled at Tony, who gave a small chuckle in return. 

“The way you put too much peanut butter on your bagels, which by the way, peanut butter on bagels is at least in the top ten crimes against humanity right up there with slam poetry, is entirely human. Your absolute stubbornness is another one. Call me a hypocrite, Cap, but goddamn! I’ve never seen someone with hold onto something the way you do, like super magnetic, welded on, static cling! And that constant stick up your ass!” 

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at that. Encouraged, Tony continued, “Don’t even get me started on your stupid muscles. Who needs all those muscles, huh? How are there even shirts that fit you?! I can’t really complain, but seriously, talk about bulk!”

“You keep yourself all lithe and toned, right Tony?” Steve said in-between chuckles.

“That’s right. Who needs all that flesh?”

“Can’t argue with you there,” Steve replied, putting his own hand on Tony’s shoulder and letting slide down his arm to his elbow. “But you’ve never really complained before.” He could feel Tony’s muscles even with his wiry build. He blushed slightly as he did so; he’d never touched Tony like this before, never so purposefully. Sure they’d brushed up in battles, they’d even held each other skin to skin during one memorable after-battle shower when Tony almost cracked his head open by falling asleep standing in the shower. But never like this, with affection, with caresses. 

Tony’s ears turned red at the contact.

“And the way you smile,” Tony continued, “its just…I-I can’t think of anyone more human than you.” Tony finished and looked down at where Steve’s hand laid on his elbow then back up to meet Steve’s eyes. 

His neck started to turn red, and Steve felt his own cheeks start to warm. He couldn’t hold back anymore; he leaned forward and quickly put his lips to Tony’s for a quick kiss before pulling away again to look into Tony’s eyes. Tony looked stunned. Steve laughed and gave him another little peck before leaning back to look at him more fully. He looked so beautiful there even with the crow’s feet built up over long nights of exhaustion framing his warm eyes. Steve couldn’t help but love him.

“I still believe in God,” Steve said, seemingly shocking Tony out of his kissed-induced stupor, “and I still consider myself to be Catholic. But still, I know that I love you and I want to be with you. I think if God does exist, than there isn’t any planet he’s created where I’m not a better man when I’m with you.” 

“Steve,” Tony said, this time not in exasperation or caution but with some emotion and tears forming in his eyes.

“I want to be with you, Tony. If that’s what you want,” Steve finished in slight apprehension. He thought he knew where they stood, but with Tony, nothing was ever sure. 

“You know,” Tony replied with that familiar smirk on his face, “I agree with that moving sentiment. My ass is never finer than when it’s next to yours.”

“Tony!” Steve exclaimed, feeling his face blush furiously. 

“Sorry, Steve, but you should know what you’re getting into.” At this, Tony leaned in closer to give him a hug. Tony was smaller than him, but Steve couldn’t help how his body relaxed and leaned into his strong frame.

“I love you too, Steve,” Tony whispered softly right next to his ear. Steve shivered at the contact and, though he wouldn’t admit it even to himself, at the tenderness in Tony’s voice. 

And as he lay in Tony’s arms with the sky growing dark around them, he finally felt the peace and contentment that he had searched his whole life to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading. This was a healing process for me, and I hope that if this story is relatable for you in your life that you find some comfort. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
